It's dark when I wake up. For a moment, I'm disoriented, wondering where exactly I am. I sit up quickly and look around, focusing on the florescent light from the laptop that is on the table. I realize now where I am - I'm still in L's hotel room. L himself is curled up in the chair in front of the coffee table, but from here I can't tell what he's doing. I glance at the clock on the bedside table, and see that it's nearly five in the morning. Quiet, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, then stand, the barest hints of a lingering headache still remaining from before. My feet slide soundlessly over the carpet as I make my way over to the table.

The laptop is open to a Microsoft Word document, labeled "Kira Case Notes". The entry is on the fortieth page of roughly sixty. I scan the content of the page, and notice that the page is all about me - everything that L knows for a fact, speculates, or speculated, and how I tie into everything. I roll my eyes and turn to face the only other person in the room, only to see that his eyes are closed, his breathing even, and face relaxed. He's asleep. I blink and stare for a few more seconds, my heart softening at the sight, before I take the seat next to him and pull the laptop onto my lap. I minimize everything, not really caring what it says, and pull up the Internet. I log onto the website that has the most reliable news feed, and look it over. There is a small mention of what happened in my neighborhood, and with only a few comments, I can guess that the general public deems the ordeal unimportant. The Task Force is keeping everything hushed, then.

L stirs next to me, eyelids fluttering, before they open halfway, still fogged over with sleep. He yawns and blinks a few times, before his gaze sharpens and he notices me. He sits up quickly, staring. "What are you doing?" he demands.

I blink at him and turn the laptop screen in his direction. "Looking at the news. You know, current events, weather, the date…" I trail off. He looks annoyed, now.

"You haven't looked at anything else?"

I shake my head. "No, sir. If you don't believe me, you can look at the mouse strokes later." I close the lid on the computer and hand it to him. "I'm nosy, sure, but even I know when I go too far. Besides, it's all about the case, or some other cases, maybe, and if you see fit to tell me, then I'll know. Until then, it's none of my business."

"You're right," he agrees. "It's none of your business."

I roll my eyes, making sure he sees the movement. He ignores me, opening the laptop again, and closing the Internet browser. With everything minimized, the desktop is immediately revealed, and I notice it's nothing more than his customary blank white screen with the L in the center. "However," he continues, "This is your business, as it greatly involves you." He opens another Word document, completely blank, and then sets the laptop on the table. He shifts, his stance relaxing, with only one knee drawn up to his chest. The other leg hangs from the end of the chair. He rests his wrist on his knee, and gestures with his other hand. "I've been thinking about how we can use your abilities to our advantage. The simplest way would be to have you walk around the Kanto region, inconspicuously dressed, and have you read every name and lifespan. When you find people without the lifespan, let us know through an earpiece similar to a Bluetooth, though a bit more secure as far as radio interference goes, and with a larger signal range."

I shrug in response. "I suppose that's also the easiest way," I guess.

He nods, looking faintly annoyed. "Yes, it is. The other ways include a lot of bribery, radio slots, time, money… in general, things I don't want to use. Not to mention, some of them include a lot of risk-taking, mostly on your part, and I figure I'd never get away with it, as far as your family's permission goes. We wouldn't have the time anyway."

I snort, cracking a grin. "No, probably not. They let me get away with a lot, and turn a blind eye if I'm in trouble with my teachers or other students, as long as it doesn't effect my grades or my health."

L rolls his eyes this time, "I figured as much," he admits.

"People who don't generally like me - mostly jealous boys - call me a spoiled brat because of it," I inform him.

"They're not wrong."

"Of course not," I laugh. "Why bother to deny the truth? Still, they can think it all they want, just don't say it."

"Why not?" he questions, and I shrug.

"Just one of those things, I guess."

He grins. "I guess," he repeats. The grin disappears, and his blank mask is in place again. "Anyway, it'll take time, and will probably be quite tedious, but sometimes you have to do things simply."

I nod. "Indeed," I agree. "So when will this start?"

"I'll finalize the plan tomorrow, but I figured you should know, since you're up," he says, reaching up and scratching his head.

"Since I'm up," I repeat, teasingly. "What did Amane say?"

His gaze, which had wandered to the ceiling, snaps back to me. "It was mostly nonsense, things that I had already guessed. She was very reluctant to give anything up. She mentioned her parents, and while that is unfortunate, I doubt it is a very good reason to become a serial killer simply to meet another serial killer." He rolls his eyes and makes an exaggerated gesture with his hands. "She said something about the Shinigami, and how they actually drop the killer notebooks from their 'world' to mess with humans. She mentioned that you actually require a name and face to kill, which we already knew." He looks up again, biting on his thumbnail. "It's a certainty that there are a couple of more notebooks in the human world, at least one more, anyway. Apparently the users of the notebook are bound by certain rules - the ones written on the back of the cover. She didn't say anything else, and Rem has been silent since it got here," he finishes.

I give a little hum, expecting most of what I was told. Apparently, the bitch hadn't given up as much information as I had originally assumed. A pity. I run the information over in my mind, taking note how it all fits perfectly into all of my theories and hypothesizes. L falls silent, seeming to sag into the couch, content to leave the conversation at that, I suppose. He stares into the distance, probably thinking things over rapidly.

"Do you mind if I go back to sleep?" L asks suddenly, breaking the silence that had descended over the room a few minutes ago. Apparently I was wrong. He most likely wasn't thinking anything at all.

My red eyes flash over in his direction; I'm surprised. "I don't care," I say. "I'm tired myself, still." Frowning inwardly, I look him over, and notice that his eyelids are drooping, and that the clarity that came with being woken is wearing off. His dark eyes are loosing some of their usual shine, making them look dull and lifeless. In the lighting of the laptop, I notice that they are a sharp gray, rather than the blackish brown I had previously assumed them to be. The dark circles under his eyes are more prominent than I've ever seen them; a jolt of concern runs through me. He really needs to sleep more. "We can share the bed, if you want," I offer without thinking.

Thankfully, he is so socially awkward; he doesn't pick on the slip of my words, especially in his half-asleep state. He just nods gratefully, and stands. Closing the laptop, I quickly follow, climbing into the bed on the side I had woken up on. L climbs onto the other side, under the covers, and faces away from me on his side. He curls up into a fetal position, and I can tell from the way his arm is resting on his ribs that he has is thumb somewhere near or in his mouth. I can tell that he's asleep in moments-his shoulders relax and his breathing evens.

For a while I rest, simply staring at the ceiling with my hands behind my head. My body is stretched out, unlike L's, completely relaxed. I should probably feel more awkward sharing a bed with someone, but I feel entirely at ease.

That realization alone puts me on edge.

...

What feels like minutes later, but in reality is about an hour, I'm woken by a knock on the hotel door. I glance over to L, but am somewhat unsurprised to find him still sound asleep. He was exhausted last night, I know that much. He must not have slept in a while. I consider waking him, but discard the idea. I don't know how much sleep he had received before I woke him last night, but I have a feeling it wasn't much, since he was up for maybe twenty minutes before he was out like a light once more.

Muttering profanity softly under my breath, I pull back the sheets on my side of the bed and walk over to the hotel door. I look through the peephole before I open it, finding the Task Force on the other side. They all look briefly surprised, but the emotions are quickly concealed by a mask, one I'm sure will be on for a while - at least until they get used to my eyes. I step to one side to let them inside, and when they are all in, I shut the door.

They are looking around in confusion, taking in the closed laptop, empty teacup, and plates with barely anything left on it save for crumbs. "Where is Ryuuzaki?" my father asks after a moment.

I shrug, taking my seat from the night before and lying down. "He fell asleep about an hour ago. Hasn't moved a centimeter since."

"Seriously?" Matsuda asks in disbelief. "He actually sleeps?"

"Yeah."

There is a click in the direction of the door, and it opens slightly to reveal Watari. He blinks at the scene for a moment, then says, "When Ryuuzaki does sleep, it's normally for about nine hours or so. I suggest you all just go home."

"Shouldn't we work instead of leave?" Aizawa questions.

Watari shrugs. "What could you do? You need him to move forward - after all; he is the only one who knows the plan for your next move. You're welcome to stay, should you wish to do so. I wouldn't recommend it."

The members of the Task Force consider it, meanwhile, I hunt down a piece of paper and a pen until I realize L left a Word document open the night before. Or, rather, an hour ago. I shake my head and walk over to the laptop and lift the lid. I hesitate for a moment, before I type:

Ryuuzaki-

Task Force came at 6am.

I left with my father.

Thanks for helping me out.

See you tomorrow.

Raito

I close the lid on the laptop and sigh, glancing up at my father, who had been reading over my shoulder. "Are we leaving?" I ask him.

He nods quickly and straightens while I stand. I bow my head in Watari's direction, and he returns the nod. I then, without looking back, walk right out the door.

I hear footsteps behind me, and I know it is the Task Force. I bow my head and put my hands into my jean pockets, missing the comfort of my jacket and its hood. I shrug it off, walking from the hotel and heading straight for my father's car. He is not far behind me, so he unlocks the car and I slip inside, taking my customary seat on the passenger side. Soichiro doesn't look at me when he shuts his door and starts the car. He backs out of the parking space and still, doesn't glance at me. Normally he would've struck up a conversation at this point, but no luck. I address it after about ten minutes of thick, awkward silence, "Is it because of my eyes or because you can't go to work today?"

His eyes flicker to me briefly before he looks back at the road. His grip is tight on the steering wheel; his knuckles are white with the force of it. I must've hit a nerve - it's because of my eyes. "Neither, son," he tells me. "It's just stress."

Reflexively, I respond, "Liar." I shut my mouth immediately, shocked at my audacity. Dad is shocked, too, I can tell, because his gaze shoots over to me, anger and surprise clear in the sharp gaze.

"What did you say?" he questions, his voice shaking slightly from suppressed fury. Some of it, I know is directed at me, and I know some must be really stress, but I can't think of anything else that might make him so mad, when he normally much harder to anger. I gulp, then shake my head, biting my lip as I turn away and stare out the window.

I'm mad at myself. Normally I don't back down from a fight. I never surrender an argument. But Dad never really gets angry, either. It surprised me, and I don't know how to deal with it. I watch the city of Tokyo go by, not really seeing it. My mind turns over nothing, and even though I have gotten a lot of sleep, I'm still tired. I don't want to face my family. It's different, seeing things for the second time. You think you're okay with it, that you've got it under control, that you've wrapped your mind around it. But usually, you haven't, and it stings.

My father pulls up to our house, and I hop out of the car before the vehicle is turned off completely. Soichiro doesn't say anything to me when he catches up at our door, instead just unlocking it and holding it open for me. Sayu should be in school by now, I think, staring at the quiet house. Soichiro steps in behind me and hangs up his jacket, slipping off his shoes. After a second, I toe mine off, too, and follow him into the kitchen where my mother is, allowing my eyes to relax to their natural shade.

Sachiko turns when we enter, surprised. "Raito! Soichiro! What are you doing back already?" she asks, gesturing for us to sit.

"Ryuuzaki fell asleep about an hour ago," I tell her. "Since he barely sleeps, we didn't want to wake him." I glance at the clock, and then stand. "I think I still have time to catch my first class this morning," I say quickly, forcing my eyes into the painful amber. "Do you mind if I go, since I've missed a few days?"

I don't really care - I'll go whether they want me to or not. I need to get away from my father and the suffocating atmosphere he is creating. My mother nods, her smile slightly strained. I can't bring myself to feel bad, because while I know she wants me to stay, I need to go. So I do.

...

My classes pass uneventfully and I am immensely grateful for the first shred of normalcy I've had in a long time. My friends - if I can really call them that; somehow, I don't think that I can - were surprised to see me and crowded around for most of the day, never leaving me room to breathe. I did get a lot of money for notes, though, which I'm grateful for. I made about 25,000 yen.

The next day I wake before everyone else in my family and proceed through my normal routine anyway. By the end of it, my father is awake and just getting ready. I let him know I'm leaving for L's hotel and take off without an answer.

L had texted me - and I assume, the rest of the Task Force - the address of a new building. He had had it built, and it was finally ready. I find it without an issue, and knock quietly on the door of the room L said he was in. This building doesn't have some secret code embedded into it, thank God. That was so annoying and I don't want to deal with it now.

Watari opens the door, nods, and lets me in. L is sitting in a chair by the window, a steaming cup of tea in front of him and a chocolate box next to it on a coffee table. He has one of the pieces of chocolate in his hand when I sit across from him. He nods at me, face expressionless. We wait in silence for the rest of the Task Force. I look around me, taking in the huge computer screens and desks around the large room. It has a high ceiling, and a staircase on the right side of the room. There is an elevator underneath it. The entire room feels cold and dispassionate, distant and detached. It's exactly what I would expect from my employer.

It doesn't take long for the others to get here. My father arrives first, and takes the seat as far away from me as possible. Either L notices and doesn't care, or he makes note of it and shows no sign, because he doesn't react to the unusual behavior of my father. Matsuda, Mogi, and Aizawa arrive together, probably after first meeting at the police headquarters. They take their seats around the coffee table without a sound.

A few minutes pass before L makes any movements. He blinks, slowly, before telling the Task Force about the plan that L had told me about the day before. This plan has a bit more detail, however. I'm to start in Tokyo every morning and start walking in some random direction until I find this guy. Cameras will be set up around the Kanto region, taking a constant surveillance of the entire population while I'm not at the new building that L has had built. The cameras will be sped up when I get back to headquarters, and L and I will watch them together while I scan people as the feed plays.

The whole plan sounds really complicated and tedious. There are so many places for error it's ridiculous. I could miss Kira while I'm walking around, or when I'm viewing the tapes. There are so many people, so many names and life spans in the Kanto region, and I can't forget about how much land the region takes up. We don't even know if he's even still here - he could have run off somewhere else a few weeks ago or even a few months ago. For all we know, Kira might be agoraphobic and never even leave his fucking house. I don't voice my concerns, knowing it's the only method my parents would approve of that doesn't involve shipping really expensive equipment and really expensive people across the world or something equally ridiculous.

"Any questions?" L asks at the end of the speech, glancing quickly around at the Task Force. "No? Good," he says not a moment later, despite the fact that Matsuda looks like he has quite a few things that needs to be clarified in his mind. L stands, and I watch him lazily under my bangs as he walks around his chair to a different one in front of the television on a desk that doesn't have a computer. He climbs over the back of the large chair and stands in its seat for a moment before squatting down. I will never understand how he manages to sit that way day in and day out without getting uncomfortable or cramped. I can't bring myself to move from my seat, too content in my current position with my hand holding up my head and one of my legs crossing over the other. They don't seem to notice me anyway, and it's not like I can't hear them all perfectly fine.

...

It's hardly ten minutes later that I'm sent out. I go without a fuss, and I just walk around the city I grew up in for seven hours, aimlessly looking over names as I see them.

Then I see it.

My eyes catch the break in the pattern immediately. Two people, both male, make their way into the bank. Neither of them have life spans above their heads. Curious, I follow them inside, and wait in one of the seats near the door under the pretense of having an appointment with a private teller. I play idly with my phone, texting with L every few minutes instead of speaking into the blue tooth. It's better to have something to do than just wait around and stare at people every couple of seconds. People will notice if someone does something like that.

The older of the two disappears into the safes in the back with a teller. The younger one walks over, and with a jolt, I suddenly recall why that name seems so familiar. Kaito, the boy doing drugs behind the high school I attended. He was in my advanced English class. I had never given him much thought. I had never imagined that he would be working so closely with Kira. But now I understand. He always was so desperate to survive, if not make it to the top. And when he finally realized he couldn't, he turned to drugs to forget his problems, if only for a couple of hours. Before he did that, there had always been rumors of his horrible home life, of his cruel parents and neglectful older siblings, which had only gotten worse once he started with drugs. He ruined his future. A rush of unexpected pity runs through me, but I brush it off quickly.

He notices me, and his eyes widen. I smile politely at him, and he takes the seat next to mine. "Yagami Raito?" he asks, and I nearly hesitate before I nod and shake his hand. "Goodness! I never expected to see you here. How are you? Is college going well?"

He goes on. I answer all of his questions politely, if evasively, but he doesn't notice my half-true answers. When his older counterpart emerges from the back with the teller, Kaito stands, and smiles at me, telling me how nice it was to see me. It's a lie. I know it is. We weren't friends before, and we certainly aren't now. Props to him, however, for the convincing act. To an outsider, that would have looked genuine. I repeat the sentiment, and when they leave, I wait ten minutes before sending the police officers out after them.

...

L and I stand in front of their cells. Both of us are a little dumbfounded that it was so easy - it was almost too easy. L had told me earlier that since the early parts of the case had been much harder, he would have expected something more difficult to come our way. I agreed.

I blink at their miserable forms, and then look at the notebook in my hands, which is cold to the touch, even though I have been holding it for three hours now. I glance at the Shinigami monster that had come from this book, who, for some reason, seems creepier than the other one. This one is dressed entirely in black, with black hair and red eyes that seem so familiar, almost painfully so. The creepiest part of it, perhaps, is the smiles that stretches from ear to ear, and its sharp teeth. It's disgusting to look at.

I shake my head and hand the notebook to L, who takes it with a nod. "I'm going to the bathroom," I tell him quietly. He nods again, and I turn and walk out of the prisoners' room without another word. On my way out I pass Misa Amane, who hisses at me. I hardly acknowledge her, instead just turning to the bathrooms.

I make it there without incident, but when I step into the stall, I find myself pinned by powerful hands against the wall. My vision has gone white from the impact of my head against the tiled wall, so I have no way of knowing what happened. As I try to regain my bearings, an unfamiliar voice hisses in my ear, "I never imagined you'd survive, never mind for nearly two decades with no one the wiser…"

"W-what?" I gasp out, dizziness making it hard to think.

"Your eyes!" the voice replies urgently. "When that idiotic fool cursed you as a child in your mother's womb, I nearly killed him. Nevertheless, he survived, however, you must be wary of Ryuk, child."

My vision cleared as the words registered, and I blink in surprise at the sight in front of me. Another Shinigami monster, this one could instead be described as horrifically beautiful, rather than just creepy. With long, bone-like wings behind it, and a matching, torn, dress-like fabric covering it, it is almost like a fallen angel. It's still grotesque and frightening, but at least it's something I can stand to look at. I blink a few more times, but the sight remains. I am not hallucinating, as far as I know. It feels too real to be a hallucination.

"Which one is Ryuk?" I question sluggishly. My head is pounding something fierce, though it is not nearly up to par with my normal migraines.

It rolls its eyes. "The one with the shit-eating grin," it clarifies, and I remember it.

It's the one in the cells, with only prisoners and L to keep it company. "L," I hiss out, and start to struggle to get away, because if this Shinigami is telling me to be wary of one of its own kind, then I should be justifiably worried.

It swats at me, and pins me more firmly against the wall. "He won't harm your precious boyfriend, child," it scolds, annoyed. "Just you."

Amazingly enough, what I focus on is not the threat to my life, but rather to its other accusation. "L is not my boyfriend!" I hiss, suddenly very aware of where I am.

It gives some semblance of a shrug. To my annoyance and embarrassment, it appears to be laughing at me. "Whatever you say, child. I care very little for your petty human relationships, and the difference between each one."

I splutter in shock.

What the hell?

Where had this conversation gone?

I push the monster away from me, and this time, it lets me go. Without thinking, I run back up to the rooms that L had provided in the headquarters building that we were using while trails were being conducted. I slam the door shut behind me, and then sink down to the floor, much like I had after the cameras had been taken from my rooms at my parents' house. I lean my head against the wall and try to sort out my thoughts, which were thrown into chaos.

I certainly don't mind L's company. It's comfortable being around him, and for once, I know that he is my intellectual equal. I could be with him. He's just male. I'm not a homosexual. I know I'm not.

My head slams against the door behind me, and my eyes burn. L is seven years my senior. He is a world-renowned detective. Even if he is homosexual, there is no reason for him to lower himself to date someone with a supernatural anomaly. A college student still living with his parents. I have no income.

God, why am I doing this? Why do I even care? It was just some passing comment from a monster in a bathroom stall. It was trying to warn me about a threat to my life and I am instead fretting over whether or not I have L as a boyfriend. I hit my head against the wall again, and I feel a tear slide down my cheek. My hands fly up to my face and I don't shed another one. I have never concerned myself over my sexuality, mainly because I thought myself incapable of finding someone who I could be with. Because of my peers' lower intelligence, they were unattractive, though that was not their fault. I eventually settled on the conclusion that I was asexual and left it at that. It did not merit my attention.

I don't know how long that I sit in the same position, trying to come up with some shred of the organized thought process I had this morning. It must have been a while, since I am jolted from my stupor by a knock at the door. L's voice drift through the barrier, "Is Light-kun collected enough for dinner?"

I forgot about the cameras.

Still, I fumble around to get up and wipe at my eyes, hoping to be able to pass off my long absence for having taken an unexpected nap. When I open the door, I know he's not fooled. He stares at me for the longest minute, unblinking while I fight the urge to either bolt past him or slam the door in his face. "Well?" I finally demand, a little harsher than I meant to.

He blinks, finally, and turns away from me. His slow journey downstairs begins after I shut the door behind me. I fall into step next to him, and we both mutually agree through some silent communication to take the stairs instead of the elevator down six floors.

Somewhere on the fourth floor, L breaks the silence. "Did one of the death gods corner Light-kun in the bathroom?"

I blink and look at his profile. How on earth could he have known that? I know that he has only ever encountered two Shinigami, and both of them were in the cells while I was being attacked in the bathroom. I also know that he hasn't placed cameras in bathrooms, simply because it was in the agreement of all members of the Task Force that doing such a thing was crossing the line. All of this flies through my head in less than a second, and I reply without missing a beat and without my voice wavering, "Of course not. What on earth would have made you think that?"

"The second…thing…told me of the third one that has been roaming around since we caught Kira, simply for its own amusement. I cannot see it, but I am aware of its existence. The sound waves from the bathroom indicated that Light-kun was speaking to something after being attacked, but there were no replies. I assumed that this third Shinigami is what caused Light-kun's distress."

I have no answer. There is nothing to say. How do I tell my employer that he's right?

Because L is my employer. He is not, and can never be, anything more than that.